


Enemy of my enemy

by Tashilover



Category: Star Trek Into Darkness - Fandom, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Kirk!whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Harrison is not your typical kidnapper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This wasn't the first time Kirk has played hostage. Oh no, as a Captain of a starship, people were immediately drawn to him, wanting the influence and power his position gave. All Captains of Star Fleet were trained to handle such situations. Most kidnappers only wanted money or weapons or something equally stupid and it was easy to negotiate a release within twenty-four hours.

John Harrison was not your typical kidnapper. "Do you need to use the restroom?"

Truth was, Kirk did. But his hands were bound behind his back and he seriously doubted Harrison would loosen them just so Kirk could take a piss break. "Do  _you_  need to use the restroom?" Kirk sneered at him. "Or is having to take a piss too low of a bodily function for you?"

Ooooh, it was a bad idea to taunt the man who could crush your head. Kirk couldn't help it, it was a defense mechanism.

"This will be the last time I ask you, captain," Harrison said evenly. "Do you need. To use. The restroom?"

Now he was putting full stops in his sentences. Kirk felt proud for annoying him with such a simple question. It was tempting to keep going but he really did need to go and it sounded like Harrison would deny him a potty break in the future. Better not push his luck. "Yes."

Harrison got up from his chair and walked over to where Kirk was sitting. He moved around to the back and though Kirk couldn't see, he felt the rope around his wrists fall away. "Get up," Harrison said with a hint of warning in his tone. "Don't fight me."

Kirk had no plans to fight him, not directly at least. His knuckles still hurt when he first tried to punch Harrison across the face. Kirk made a show of rubbing his wrists (not a show, they were itchy) while making direct eye contact with Harrison as he made his way to the restroom.

Thankfully Harrison didn't insist that the door be kept opened. That would've been awkward.

The lavatory was what you expected in a standard travel ship. A toilet, a sink, soap and disposable towels. There were a few little items kept in a side cabinet: feminine products, aspirin and a simple first aid kit. Nothing that can be used as a weapon.

First things first, Kirk used the toilet. After he flushed, he thought about the first aid kit again and wondered what was truely inside.

He opened it. There was a cheap tri-corder, guaze, pain killers, medical tape and-

Ah-HA! A tiny pair of scissors. Perfect. Kirk tucked them into his pocket.

Harrison pounded on the door. "You've been in there long enough," he said. "Get out or else I'm coming in."

Kirk quickly placed away the first aid kit and opened the door. Harrison escorted him back to his seat and instructed him to put his arms behind his back again.

"I didn't wash my hands," Kirk said as Harrison tied on the ropes.

Harrison only paused for a nano-second, but it was long enough for Kirk to sense it and he smiled in triumphant.


	2. Chapter 2

Kirk slept. He hated the waiting game but if he was going to outwit Harrison, he was going to need all his energy to do it. Conserve your energy, his mentors told him. Wait for the opprotune moment to arrive then strike.

He woke up a few hours later (or maybe ten minutes later, he couldn't tell, he didn't have a watch) with a crick in his neck. Harrison was still flying the ship. He looked like he'd barely moved.

"Where are we?" Kirk asked, moving his head from side to side to stretch it.

Surprisingly, Harrison answered him. "We're just outside Klingon airspace."

"What?" Kirk nearly yelped. "After the stunt you pulled, you want to come back here?"

"The ship is concealed, they won't notice it."

"Security has probably doubled since you last been here. You honestly think a semi-concealed ship is going to get past their radars?"

Harrison's hands tightened around the controls. Upon seeing this, Kirk knew he should pull back before accidentally spurring Harrison into a violent rage. "The Klingons are morons," Harrison growled. "And I have concealed my ship  _very_  well."

It was difficult, not knowing how intelligent Harrison was. It made Kirk second-guess himself and he  _hated_  second-guessing himself. Was it possible to escape Harrison's clutches or was Kirk giving himself false hope?

Kirk couldn't see very well where he sat and had to wait for Harrison to turn the ship in order for the planet to come into view. It wasn't the same planet Harrison had taken refuge on before. This planet was blue and green and reminded Kirk so much of Earth it made him homesick. "It looks like Earth," he said.

"You should be thankful it's not," Harrison said. "All of the indigenous tribes are dead."

He said it without remorse or pride. He was simply stating a fact and it was that indifference that sent a shiver down Kirk's back.

The ship decended quietly.

 

 

 

By the time they landed, Kirk was inwardly begging to stand up. He didn't have time to place the scissors inside his pocket in an comfortable way and as a result, the scissors dug into his thigh. He could feel the point slowly cutting through his trousers, digging into his flesh. He was bleeding, he knew, and hoped it wasn't noticeable.

Once the ship settled, Harrison got up from his chair and went over to Kirk. He undid the ropes and stepped back.

Kirk stood and relief flooded him as the scissors moved away from his leg. He resisted the urge to reach down and rub his thigh. It may look like he was working out his muscles, but he didn't want to bring Harrison's attention to anywhere near the scissors.

In Harrison's hand he held a phaser set to stun. Kirk was surprised. He thought Harrison brought him here to execute him. "Why haven't you killed me yet?"

"I will," said Harrison. He jerked the phaser in a direction and Kirk followed without question. "Eventually."

That implied some kind of torture. Kirk may be a captain of a starship but he didn't have secrets worth dying for. Harrison may know as much as he Kirk did, probably even more.

They stepped off the ship onto the planet. The whole area was surrounded by trees and the air was thick with humidity. Kirk was reminded of the Jungle Book and he half-expected to see an oragutan swing by. Harrison nudged Kirk to keep walking.

They didn't walk far, just far enough for the ship to disappear from view, obscured by the trees.

"There," said Harrison, pointing towards what looked like the mouth of a cave on a hill. "Walk there."

Kirk did. It was a little difficult to walk up the stony hill with a sharp instrument in his pocket. The veiw was better from here, but not enough to give them a vantage point. Kirk turned to Harrison and asked again, "What do you want from me?"

Harrison leveled the phaser to Kirk's head. It was still on stun. "I've told your crew I have you. They will come here to rescue you."

"My crew is not going to risk war with the Klingons to rescue me," Kirk said. "My first officer is a Vulcan, his logic will not allow him."

"They may not come in a StarFleet ship, but they will come,  _that_  I have no doubt. Sleep now, Captain Kirk."

Harrison shot off the phaser, striking Kirk right in the forehead. As he fell, the last thing he thought of was, 'Don't fall on the scissors, don't fall on the scissors.'

He fell on the scissors.


	3. Chapter 3

Ow, ow, ow, ow.

Waking up from a phaser stun was one of the worst things a person could experience. Kirk was exaggerating, but it was up there on his top ten list. It was like having a hangover combined with all his limbs suffering from that horrible prickly feeling when it fell asleep.

To top it all off, nearly half an inch of metal was inside his thigh.

He supposed he could write it off as a victory: Harrison never found them. And they were sharp enough to cut through flesh. So, oh yeah, totally a victory.

Kirk didn't open his eyes just yet, wanting to gather himself before revealing he was awake. His arms and legs were bound with more rope. Had Harrison stolen a better ship, he could have tied Kirk's limbs with actual metal cuffs instead of whatever he could find on board.

He heard a fire going and the smell of cooked meat wafted to his nose. His stomach gave an automatic grumble.

"God," he heard Harrison complain. "Your stomach is louder than your snoring."

Well, that settled it. No point in feigning sleep. Kirk slowly opened his eyes, wincing when his head pounded with painful sensation. It was night and the campfire Harrison had set up was bright. At first Kirk wanted to scold Harrison for his stupidity: building a campfire? Did he  _want_  the locals to see him? He might as well be calling the Klingons directly.

But no, the placement of campfire was not done improperly. Looking out into the forest, Kirk could see thousands of contained lights that resembled campfires, all spreading out across the land. He theorized this was the planet's natural state at night. Harrison's fire would have to be unusually large to distinguished itself from the thousands of other lights.

Kirk's stomach rumbled again. He grimaced, hating having to actually ask his captor for food. "So, are you going to feed me or what?"

Harrison pulled out something that looked like a cooked lizard on a stick from the fire. He inspected it for a few moments and stuck it back in the flames. "No."

"What? Why not?"

"I am not here for your comfort."

"You let me use the toilet."

"I didn't want you to smell like urine. That was my one and only curtesy towards you."

Kirk waited. "C'mon!"

"No! How the hell does an idiot like you become captain?"

"Luck!"

"You can't rely on luck."

" _You_  can't rely on luck. I, however..."

He cut himself off when Harrison suddenly pulled out the phaser, aiming at Kirk's head. "You will be quiet."

Kirk bit down on his tongue, ceasing the inner-need to get the last word in. He really didn't want to get knocked out again. Harrison held the phaser a few seconds longer, then placed it away. He reached down and pulled out his cooking lizard again.

 _GuuuuuuRRrrrggGGGlllLLllLLrrrRRgggll_...

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Harrison yelled out. He threw the lizard to Kirk. "Eat and cease that infernal noise."

The lizard wasn't very big, perhaps the size of a drumstick, but it'll be enough to calm Kirk's stomach until something more substantial came along. It was a little awkward trying to eat without the use of his arms. He managed to bite off the head, and eat two legs when he noticed Harrison was not eating. Didn't he catch more than just one creature? "Not hungry?"

"What have I said about not talking?" Harrison said through gritted teeth.

"We could share, you know. There's no reason why the both of us-"

Harrison suddenly surged to his feet, crossed over and kicked Kirk in the shoulder  _hard_. Kirk grunted, his head nearly slamming on the rock floor as he fell onto his back from the force of the kick. He tried to move to get his weight off his tied arms when Harrison's foot slammed down on his shoulder (the same one, darn it) pinning him.

" _You will not be nice to me_ ," Harrison seethed. " _I will receive no pity from you, not from the people who murdered_ my _family."_

Wait, what?

"This is your last and final warning, Kirk." Harrison warned, grinding his foot down. "If you cross me, your friends will only have your  _head_  to bury. So shut. Up."

Harrison pulled his foot away. Kirk coughed, struggling to breathe through the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who caught the CP reference? It just happened, I swear. =)


	4. Chapter 4

It took forever for Harrison to fall asleep. Kirk wondered if it was because the super-human truely didn't need that much sleep, or Harrison was just an insomniac.

Either way, now that Harrison's guard was down, Kirk sprung into action.

As quietly as he could, he slipped his hand into his pocket to get to the scissors. He bit his lip as he pulled it out, feeling tips come out of his flesh. He hoped the bleeding had stopped.

Kirk recognized the type of knot Harrison used to tie the ropes. It was a constrictor knot and had Kirk struggled against it, it would have tightened immesnely, cutting off his circulation and rendering his hands useless. It took some awkward manuevering to position the scissors in a way to cut through the ropes.

Once Kirk was confident how he placed the scissors, he began to hack at the rope.

It was slow work. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Snip, snip, snip. He kept his eye on Harrison, freezing every time Harrison twitched or fidgeted. A few times Kirk's fingers would weaken and he would drop the scissors. The fourth time it happened, he laid there anguishing, thinking this was a pointless plan and it would never work.

But when the faces of Spock, Uhura, and the rest of his crew came to mind, he picked up the scissors again and started hacking with renewed vigor.

It took hours. He couldn't feel his fingers anymore. He was afraid Harrison was going to wake up at any moment, see what he was trying to do and break his arms so he wouldn't try this again-

He felt the rope give. Kirk's arms jerked at the sudden looseness and he froze, checking on Harrison. He didn't stir. Kirk tugged and pulled and twisted until finally, his arms were free.

He spent the next five minutes biting down on his lip, trying to keep the noises of pain from leaving his mouth as his shoulders cramped.

Once the pain was manageable enough, he went to untie his feet. Because Kirk knew the style of knot, it was an easy process to undo the rope. He gave himself a minute to let the blood circulate.

Harrison still hadn't stirred. Kirk got to his feet, debating on his next move.

He could try to kill Harrison, catch him unawares. He could try to get the phaser, or even look for a communicator to contact his crew. All were bad ideas. If Kirk made one wrong, Harrison would surely kill him.

Retreat then. Slowly as he could, Kirk moved away from the cave to go hide in the forest. Maybe steal the ship and leave.

He stepped on a branch and it snapped loudly under his foot.

Of course.

"KIRK!" Harrison bellowed from behind.

Throwing caution to the wind, Kirk ran. He threw himself into the forest, changing direction, zig-zagging, and ducking as phaser shots flew over his head. He heard Harrison following him, but not even Harrison had the ability to see in the dark.

Unfortunately, neither did Kirk. He tripped, he stumbled, even with the glowing bushes he occasionally ran by didn't help. But he was putting distance between him and Harrison. That was all that mattered.

Harrison wasn't even shooting anymore. Either he'd stopped or Kirk outran him so far he was out of hearing range.

That's when he heard the screaming.

Anguished screams, in frustration and pain. It sounded like Harrison was engaged in battle.

Kirk grinned. Maybe the Klingons came and now were occupying Harrison's full undivided attention. Feeling like he'd just won, Kirk slowed his sprint to an easy jog.

The screams kept coming. Kirk slowed even more, frowning. What were the Klingons doing?  _Torturing_  him?

Oh God, they were, weren't they?

"No," said Kirk as he slowed more, then stopped. "No, I'm not going back. I'm not, I'm  _not_ -"

He turned back around. "God _dammit_...!"

His thigh was burning from the little stab wound the scissors gave him, his shoulders were begging for a rest, his eyes burned, and yet Kirk ran faster than he has ever ran before. He followed Harrison's cries, thinking rapidly of what he could do if he suddenly found Harrison surrounded by Klingons.

Kirk burst forth through a small gaggle of lighted bushes and stopped. It wasn't Klingons.

Harrison was fighting a plant. A  _plant_. Vines, dozens of them, were trying to wrap themselves around Harrison's limbs, trying to keep him immobile. Harrison was strong, and he kept tearing the vines off like they were paper, snapping them off his body and tossing them to the ground. The forest floor was littered with severed vines.

But with each tear, each vine Harrison torn off, two more took its place.

Kirk didn't know the scientific name of this plant, but he's seen it before in museums and guarded greenhouses. This plant was carnivorous. It snared its prey and held it strong until the prey weakened, too tired to fight back, then it'll slowly suffocate the victim, drag the corpse back into its main body and digest it. This was what the venus flytrap would eventually evolve into after a million years of evolution.

Harrison must have ran right into the awaiting vines while chasing Kirk. The phaser wasn't in his hand anymore and it took Kirk a few long moments to find it. It was on the ground, sitting in between the writhing vines. Carefully to avoid touching the vines, Kirk leaned over and plucked the phaser off the ground.

He jumped back as the vines sensed more movement. No vines followed and Kirk assumed he was safe.

Harrison was not. He was fighting,  _hard_ , but nothing was giving. The vines were wrapping themselves around his arms, his legs, his torso, holding him and refusing to let go. Harrison screamed in frustration.

"Harrison," Kirk announced, stepping forward just enough to be seen. "I am willing to help you, to set you free. But in return, I want your guarantee you'll help me get in contact with my crew to keep them from coming here to this planet. Do we have a deal?"

"GO TO HELL," Harrison bellowed, surging forward. The vines held strong and they pulled him back. The struggling renewed.

"Harrison!" Kirk tried again. "I can see you are weakening. Don't throw your life away like this, let me help you!"

It was no use. Kirk could see it in Harrison's eyes, the man was like a wounded animal. It didn't matter what Kirk would say or do, Harrison would refuse help. He was going to die.

His torso was covered. His arms and legs were covered. The vines were wrapping themselves around Harrison's neck and face, ready to suffocate him.

"Harrison!" Kirk yelled desperately. " _Your family is alive! They're alive_!"

He wasn't sure if it got through. But as the last vine wrapped itself around Harrison's eyes, covering his face entirely, Kirk saw recognition in them. That was all the consent Kirk needed.

He raised the phaser and switched over to kill, shooting rapidly at the base of the plant. The vines exploded, releasing Harrison from their grasp. It tried once again to reclaim its prey but Kirk's shots were too fast for them. Harrison pulled and twisted out of the remaining vines and threw himself forward, landing at Kirk's feet.

Now that Harrison was too far away to grab, the vines relaxed.

Kirk lowered the phaser. He looked down at Harrison. His face was scratched, he was bleeding from dozens of little wounds, he was breathing hard but he was fine. "They're alive?" He choked.

Kirk nodded. "They're alive."


	5. Chapter 5

The plant must have been one tough cookie. Harrison was still breathing hard, even ten minutes later after being released. He has said nothing since the confirmation of his family's lives. Instead, he'd been trailing quietly behind Kirk, giving no indication of harm or hostility. He did have one arm wrapped around his torso, holding it gingerly.

"You look like crap," Kirk finally said, turning to look back at Harrison. "What else did the plant do to you?"

"Broke a few ribs," Harrison muttered. "It'll heal in a few hours."

Kirk's eyes bulged out. "A few  _hours_? Are you kidding me? You can heal bones in less than a day?"

Harrison shrugged like it was no big deal. Even with all the technology in Starfleet, it took at least two weeks to heal a broken bone. "You're limping," Harrison suddenly commented. He was staring at Kirk's leg. "Why?"

"Scissors."

"Scissors?"

Kirk held up his little life savior. He grimaced when he realized it was colored pink. "I kept these in my pocket. It dug into my thigh. Now I have a small gaping hole to deal with. It's fine. I've had worse."

Kirk could see it in Harrison's face, the whole,  _where'd-you-get-those-why-do-you-have-those-and-ho w-did-you-keep-it-from-me_  face. Instead of actually voicing that question, he merely grunted and visibly threw the thought away.

They walked in silence a bit longer. Kirk was waiting though, for the questions Harrison really wanted to ask. Maybe Harrison was waiting until his ribs were a bit better. If Kirk gave him the wrong answer, then it was just a matter of breaking Kirk's neck with his bare hands.

Five minutes later, Harrison finally asked, very quietly, "Why didn't you kill them?"

"Because I'm not a  _psychopath_. What do I gain by executing innocent men and women?"

"Me."

"By  _thinking_  I had killed your crew, you kidnapped me and goaded my crew to come rescue me. By the way," Kirk said, stopping so he had Harrison's full attention. "Why? What was your plan?"

For a moment, Harrison hesitated. Maybe he still thought his plan could work or maybe he felt guilty. Either way, he said, "I left the tracking signal on at the ship. The signal should attract both your crew and the Klingons."

Kirk didn't even resist. He punched Harrison across the face.

Harrison's head barely moved from the force. Kirk's hand felt broken, though. "That was your plan? To lure them both here and watch from a safe distance as they tore each other apart?"

"Not I," Harrison said simply. "You. I wanted you to watch them die and when it was over, after I forced you to bury what was left, I would have ended your life."

The urge to lift the phaser and just shoot Harrison in the face was so strong. Just end the politics, end the doubt, just end  _him_  and all of Kirk's problems would go away.

But looking at Harrison was like looking into a goddamn mirror. What would have Kirk done, if the roles were reversed? What if it was Spock or Uhura in those pods, sleeping until the end of time? Just the thought of any of his crew being hurt needlessly made Kirk's stomach clench painfully.

No matter what Kirk felt toward Harrison, he understood him. And that scared him. "Let's get back to the ship."

 

 

 

 

A few hours his ass. The longer they walked, Harrison stood straighter and easier as the seconds passed. His breathing got better, his stance got wider, and even the small bruises around his neck were gone.

Kirk however wasn't fairing as well. The pain in his leg was getting worse, his limp more pronounced. His one and only thought was to get back to the ship, to get in contact with his crew before something bad happened. Everything else was secondary.

"Kirk," he heard Harrison say. But it sounded so far away, like an echo.

" _Kirk_."

That sounded more clearer and yet Kirk could not focus his attention on it. He was too busy trying to move forward. Get to the ship, get to the ship, get to the-

He blinked and everything went black.

He blinked again and he found himself being manhandled by Harrison. The dude was literally holding him up with one arm, while his other hand was gipping his face. "You have a fever," Harrison hissed in disgust. "You showed no signs of sickness before we got on this planet, so how-"

His eyes darted down. "You idiot!"

Kirk wasn't sure where that insult was directed at. Either way, Harrison was dragging him over to the nearest large rock and sat him down. Harrison's hands drifted towards Kirk's crotch.

"HEY!" Kirk protested, his brain finally registering what was going on. "What are you-"

Harrison wasn't trying to grope him. He grabbed the side of Kirk's trousers and ripped them wide opened, revealing the cut the scissors had done.

This whole time, Kirk thought the cut was this tiny, managable thing, and worse come to shove, he would need a few stitches.

There was a literal  _four inch_  slash across his thigh. It wasn't bleeding as bad as Kirk thought it would but he could see his own muscle. "Holy crap," Kirk said, amazed. He held up the scissors and stared at them in awe. "You guys are sharp."

Harrison slapped him. "Focus!" He hissed. "If this brought on a fever, it's worse than it looks. You need medical attention."

Kirk pushed him away. "Ship first."

"Kirk-"

"Ship first, Harrison. The moment I can stop worrying about my crew, I can focus on this. In the meantime," he pushed himself up off the rock. He swayed, his eyesight whiting. He gritted his teeth and through sheer will, kept himself upright. "We walk."

"You're no good to me dead."

"Do you have a needle and thread on hand with you, hmm? No? Then shut up and walk, ya freak."

The sun was barely rising and the glow of the bushes slowly faded away. The nights here lasted longer than on Earth and Kirk wondered how long he has been awake. Twenty-four hours? Longer? It didn't matter. Now that the sun was up, it was easier to navigate and trace their footsteps back to the ship.

Or at least what was left of it.

"No..." said Kirk, limping forward. "No...!"

Somebody had ripped apart the ship like it was tissue paper. Broken twisted bits of metal was everywhere, pieces of it was still on fire, and even the three-inch safety glass was shattered, scattered across the forest floor.

"Huh," said Harrison, looking over the damage. "The Klingons got here faster than I anticipated."

Kirk tried to limp forward, hoping he could find something to salvage. Maybe a communicator, scraps to make a poor-man's radio, anything. "Don't," said Harrison, holding him back. "We need to leave. The Klingons could still be in the area."

Kirk could hear his heartbeat in his ear. It was beating entirely too fast. "Hey, Harrison, remember what I said about finding the ship?"

"Yes?"

"Well, we found it." And that was the last thing Kirk said before his eyesight went black and fainted.


	6. Chapter 6

He drifted in and out of consciousness.

He remembered movement, flashes of color, and his name being called. There was pain, but mostly it was nausea that took his attention as the taste of bile bubbled up in the back of his throat. If he managed to hold it down, he didn't remember.

Mostly he dreamt. He would find himself walking aimlessly on the Enterprise, not caring where he was going or where he was coming from. He wandered around the ship, nodding his head to familiar faces, never talking to anyone he passed.

He didn't even question the faces who weren't there anymore. He found Commander Pike in the mess hall, drinking tea and reading something. Pike spotted Kirk and gave him a mock salute with his mug.

Kirk's father, whom he'd only seen in pictures, was talking to Chekov and Sulu down in engineering. They looked like they were having so much fun and no matter how much Kirk wanted to get close, to see and touch, he never did.

Harrison was there too. Unlike the others, who all had a job to do or were interacting with something within the dream, Harrison walked around aimlessly like he was lost. He kept peering around the corners, going into rooms and leaving them within a few seconds later. Kirk had considered pointing him in the right direction, but everytime he came close, Harrison would move away and disappear.

It was a sad dream.

 

 

 

 

Kirk didn't know where he was. Disorientation robbed him of coherency and memory for the first three minutes of consciousness. He was on a bed, that much he knew. He was thirsty, still in a great deal of pain, and overheated.

From what he could see, it looked like he was in some kind of house. The walls were curved, dark brown, and there were various animal skulls hanging off the ceiling. Kirk knew, studying the various trinkets scattered about and the smell, this was someone's personal home.

Harrison walked through an open section of wall that lead to outside. He was wiping his hands. "Oh, you're awake," he said, seeing Kirk. "Good. I thought perhaps you died."

He said it in the same tone as someone would say, ' _Oh shucks_!'

"Where are we?" Kirk asked, his throat burning as he spoke.

"This? This is an abandoned Klingon home." Harrison said, gesturing around the place. "They probably left it due to a storm, common problem on this planet. Either way, it gave me what I needed. Medicine, needle and thread."

At first, Kirk didn't know what he meant. The words then clicked and he pulled back the covers and stared at trouser-less legs. The slash across his thigh had been expertly stitched up. "How long have I been out?"

"Only a few hours." Harrison walked up to him, kneeled down his presented him with something. A communicator.

Kirk gaped. "I found it among the items here. Call them," Harrison said, shoving the communicator into Kirk's hands. "They won't talk to me."

This wasn't kindness. Harrison was only doing this for his own and yet Kirk was gobsmacked by the attention. It was strange, having a man talk about beheading you in one minute and in the next, he was sewing up your wound and making sure you were comfortable.

Kirk took the communicator and called in, "Kirk to... anybody. Is anybody out there?"

He half-expected to hear Bones or Scotty on the other line. He thought out of all his crew, those two would be the ones who were willing come to a Klingon planet, against Starfleet orders, to rescue him.

His eyebrows rose to his hairline when it was Spock's voice that came through. "Captain? Are you unharmed?"

"Oh  _God_ ,  _Spock_ , it's so good to hear your voice." Kirk meant it. Forget about being stunned at Spock defiance, Kirk was happy to hear him. "Yeah, I'm... okay."

"I notice you paused which means you lied to me. What has Harrison done to you?"

"Nothing, Spock. This planet is not very friendly to humans. Look, where are you?"

"We are now orbiting the Klingon occupied planet. We were following your signal when it suddenly cut off."

"We?"

""Lieutenant Uhura, Sulu, Dr. McCoy, and Mr. Scott."

Oh wow, the whole gang was here. If Harrison wasn't here, watching his every move, Kirk might have blushed from the affection he was feeling. He shook off those emotions and straightened his resolve. He had to be tough at the moment. "Spock, I order you to back off from the planet."

"Captain...?"

"The Klingons read the same signal and there's a good chance they're laying in wait for another ship to come by. If you dare come down on this planet, they might shoot you out of the sky."

Spock must've had his finger on the speaker button because Kirk could hear Bones' voice echoing from the background,  _"Is he insane? He expects us to leave him- Jim! We're not leaving you down there!"_

"He's quite right, Captain," said Spock in his even tones. "It would be unwise to leave a Starfleet captain on his own on a hostile planet."

"Gee, Spock, why can't you just admit it's because you like me?"

"I-"

" _Kirk_ ," Harrison hissed impatiently.

"Calm down," Kirk whispered to him and turned back to the communicator. "Spock, tell me, where are the sleeper-pods containing Harrison's people?"

"Back at Starfleet."

From the corner of his, Kirk could see Harrison's body language change. His shoulders suddenly dropped, as if a weight was pulled off of them. His whole stance reeked of an exhaustion.

"I'm safe, Spock. That's the truth. You are not to come down on this planet, you are to go back to the nearest Starfleet station. That's an  **order**. Kirk out."

The energy it took to keep that level of authority in his voice was enormous. By the end of it, Kirk was drained. His hand dropped heavily as the world spun slowly. He thought he was going to vomit right there.

"Go to sleep," Harrison said. His voice suddenly sounded softer, more gentle. He pushed Kirk back down to lay on the bed. "...Captain."


	7. Chapter 7

There hasn't been a storm on this planet since they've been here.

Maybe it was the fever talking, but for a place that supposedly saw frequent storms, it's been pretty quiet. It rained a few times, though not hard enough except to want to invest in a good umbrella. And this Klingon house itself, it was not built to withstand storms.

Something was going on.

Over the past few days Harrison had been... well, Kirk wouldn't go as far as saying he was 'nice.' Tolerable, maybe. Harrison kept an eye out, helped Kirk changed his bandages, gave him food and water. He wasn't overly friendly but at least he'd stopped bashing Kirk's face into the floor every time Kirk got mouthy.

At the moment, Kirk had no idea where Harrison was. Maybe he was outside, enjoying the trees. Or maybe he was trying to find a puppy he could kick. He could go either way, really.

With a small grunt, Kirk pushed himself up to a sitting position. After days of nausea, headaches, and the dull ache in his leg, Kirk's body was begging to move. He needed to get the kinks out from his back, the ache from his ass from sitting too long.

Quietly, Kirk got to his feet. He winced. The cut on his thigh was inconveneint, but it shouldn't hinder any movement. With a tiny limp in his stride, Kirk walked outside.

This was the first time he'd been outside in days. It felt good to breath fresh air instead of the weird musk smell the Klingon house held. It was bright and beautiful and for a moment, Kirk lost himself bathing in the sunlight.

A high-pitched bird call jerked him out of his thoughts and reminded him what he was looking for. He pressed forward.

It didn't take him long. The graves were only a few feet away.

He'd expected one. Just one. There were two mounds of dirt, sitting next to each other. Grimacing, Kirk went on his knees and using his hands, started digging. Harrison didn't bury them deep, just enough so the smell wouldn't seep through.

On the right was a male Klingon. On the left, as Kirk suspected, was the female. Husband and wife. They were not a young couple. Their skin tone was pale and wrinkles was etched into every inch of their faces.

Kirk heard footsteps coming from behind, stopping only a few feet away. He didn't bother turning around. "They didn't have to die."

"I needed shelter," Harrison said, unforgiving. " _You_  needed shelter. If I had asked they would have tried to kill us both."

"Did you even considered asking? Or did you kill them outright?"

"Do not think you can inspire guilt in me, Kirk," Harrison said, his voice low and dangerous. "I did what I had to to keep you alive. Instead of kneeling there in the dirt, mourning the loss of two pathetic creatures you've never met, you should be thanking me."

Kirk surged to his feet, twisting around to face Harrison. "You bastard-!"

Harrison held the phaser in his hand, pointing it straight at Kirk's face. "I can keep you unconscious for the full duration of your recovery. Is that what you want, captain?"

"Why don't you tell me what you want, Harrison," Kirk snapped. He barely looked at the phaser. "What are you going to tell your crew when they wake up? How are they going to react knowing the lives you took, the families you tore apart,  _for them_? Do you honestly think they would want the blood you spilled on their hands?"

Harrison gripped the phaser tighter. "Shut up."

"You keep saying you're doing this for your family.  _Stop lying_. You're doing this for yourself at this point. You are a selfish man with selfish ambitions. If you had come to me, come to anyone, we could have helped you-"

"This is your last warning, Kirk-"

" _I AM NOT YOUR ENEMY_!" Kirk exploded. He surged forward until the phaser was digging against his forehead. Harrison jumped lightly at the sudden move, his finger nearly pressing down on the trigger.

Kirk was going to get his point across, so God help him. "These  _people_  were not your enemy. You need to  _stop_. Now put down that fucking phaser before I get angry."

Harrison kept the phaser up. He didn't look angry, he didn't look annoyed or upset or disgusted. His face was like a blank canvas, so devoid of emotion it was almost alien. The phaser was pressed against Kirk's forehead for so long, he knew a bruise was slowly taking place.

The finally, amazingly, Harrison dropped his arm. He took a step back. "What do you want me to do?"

He sounded... small. Tired.

Kirk could have said several things. First give up the phaser. Give these two Klingons a proper burial. Have Harrison agree to an anger management course. He could have said any of those things when unexpectedly, the world around them exploded.


	8. Chapter 8

Harrison reached over, grabbed Kirk by the front of his shirt and told him to, "MOVE!"

A two-manned ship, about fifty feet in the air, was locked in on them. The Klingons were not aiming to stun, they were not aiming to kill, they were aiming to 'explode in tiny itty-bitty pieces.' They were not dicking around, they really wanted to kill them.

Adrenaline kicked in and the pain in Kirk's leg quickly disappeared. He knew he was going to pay for this later but right now he was running as fast as he could. He followed Harrison, trusting that the super-human knew where he was going. The landscape was a swarm of color as they ran past it, ducking and weaving, covering their heads as the world around them was set ablaze.

Trees exploded. The ground threw up mounds of dirt and animals scurried away. The explosions kept missing them but they were so close, Kirk's teeth were rattling from the sheer force.

Maybe Harrison could survive a bomb being dropped near him, but the vibrations could easily knock Kirk unconscious or even kill him.

What happened next was too fast for Kirk to see. Harrison suddenly  _stopped_  in his tracks. Just stopped. Before Kirk could even dig in his heels to prevent himself from crashing into him, Harrison twisted around, planted a firm hand against Kirk's chest and  _shoved_.

At that moment, everything seemed to slow down. Kirk couldn't think, couldn't breath, he just watched as the motions took place and had no power to stop them.

A bomb dropped out of the sky, landed right at Harrison's feet. As Kirk flew back, he watched the bomb detonate on impact, throwing Harrison in one direction.

And his right leg in the other.

Kirk landed, his back slamming into the ground and knocking the air right out of him. He struggled to get an lungful of air but his body wouldn't let him. In his peripheral, he could see Harrison lying on the ground motionless.

Finally, Kirk took a deep shuddering breath. Pain spread through his back and he did his best to ignore it. He forced himself to his feet and limped across the burnt remains of the forest to Harrison's form. Above, he could see the Klingons twisting their ship around, readying themselves to finish off the job.

Kirk fell to his knees in front of Harrison, pushing him on his back. Harrison was alive, awake, his face contorted in pain. Still, he tried to push Kirk away. " _Go_ ," he hissed. "Go!"

"I can't," Kirk said gently. This was it, there was no way Kirk could carry Harrison, no way to outrun the Klingon ship. "My leg's fucked."

Harrison groaned. His hand shakily went down to touch his bleeding thigh. "At least... you still have your leg."

The Klingon ship took careful aim this time. Kirk didn't know what he and Harrison were at this moment. Friendship? Fellow soldiers? Frenemies?

It didn't matter. They were in this together and as Harrison gripped Kirk's arm tightly, Kirk knew Harrison thought so too.

There was a noise like a whistle, echoing far away, and suddenly two giant light beams struck the Klingon ship. The back area exploded, destroying the flying machanics, and the ship  _dropped_ , erupting into a giant fireball before it even hit the ground.

Kirk was stunned. "What just happened?"

Harrison was not given time to respond. A sudden and familiar light swirled around them both. Kirk gaped, realizing what this was, and his surprised face was what stayed on him as he teleported away.

When the light finally cleared, he was greeted by several rounds of, "Captain!" and "Jim!"

He was not on the Enterprise. The ship he was on looked like a garbage carrier, old and rusted and smelling of rot. Kirk immediately recognized the design of the teleporter, the same one Harrison used when he first spirited away. It had been modified. Scotty's personalized touch was all over it.

"Help him," Kirk suddenly said. "Harrison, he's going to bleed out."

Everyone, even Spock stopped in their tracks. "Captain-?"

"Bones, get over here."

Mccoy gave a little sound of annoyance ("Goddamn me") and moved forward, squatting down in front of Harrison. "I need extra hands," he said. "Spock, Uhura, come here please."

Kirk tried to offer his own help but McCoy pushed him away, motioning to Scotty to move him.

"C'mon, Captain," Scotty murmured, pulling Kirk up as the others kneeled down.

Kirk nearly resisted. Harrison was still a terrorist and add on top of that, a kidnapper, a murderer and all-around jerk. Anybody in Kirk's position would gladly be out of Harrison's presence as soon as possible.

And yet Kirk wanted to stay, to oversee Harrison's health. No matter the sins Harrison had done, they were both soldiers stuck in the same foxhole. "Why are you here?" He asked Scotty. "I gave you orders to stay away from the planet."

"Yeah, that was the trouble, Captain. We didn't know if that was really you saying those words or if Harrison was forcing you to."

Scotty didn't even try to make that sound believable.

"But you were right," he continued. "The Klingons were constantly sending out scouts. We feared we wouldn't be able to get to you in time. Luckily though, I had spare parts around and I built a transporter."

"You had some spare parts around," Kirk repeated lamely. "And just decided to build a transporter."

Scotty frowned, as if what he said was not at all confusing or impossible at all. "Yes, Captain."

 

 

 

 

"It looks like Harrison's healing abilities do not work as well as we thought. It's been three days now and his leg has not shown a single sign of growth."

Unconsciously, Kirk rubbed at his own leg, near his scar. Harrison never told Kirk how bad the gash was, but according to Bones, the scissors had cut straight down to his femur. He was damn lucky the scissors had not nicked his artery. "How is he taking the news?"

Spock noticed the movement and did not comment. "He hasn't spoke to us, so I do not know, Captain."

"Has the stump healed, at least?"

"Yes."

"How long until we get to the nearest Starfleet port?"

"Twenty-two hours, Captain."

Kirk, for the life of him, could not think. His mind was like a fuzzy television screen, full of white noise and movement but having no grasp on anything solid. He just spent the last few days with a homicidal terrorist. He could be forgiven for a few lapses. Besides, Spock was still manning the ship until Bones gave the thumbs-up for Kirk to return to duty. It was almost in his right to drift.

"Jim," Spock suddenly said.

That got Kirk's attention. Spock never  _ever_  said his name. It came as a surprise. "Yeah, Spock?"

"I read your report on your experience with John Harrison..."

"Yeah..." Oh God, Spock was hesitating. Something must be bad.

"Was there... was there something else you are not clarifying?"

"Clarifying?"

"You've expressed in the report that Harrison attempted to heal your leg. That he also treated your fever and saved your life, losing his leg in the process. Forgive me, Jim, but in combination of the trauma you received, I can't help but feel you may be suffering from stockholm syndrome."

" _Stockholm syndrome_? Are you kidding me, Spock?"

"No I am not, Captain," Spock said, all hesitation gone from his voice. "When we were hunting Harrison, you've expressed a good deal of anger. But now, after you have admitted he tortured you, you're very... calm."

Kirk would have groaned if Spock didn't have a very good point. It was not as if Kirk was planning to march down to the holding cells and open the door. But he did wish things had turned out differently.

Christ, maybe he was suffering from stockholm syndrome.

"It's been a weird couple of days, Spock," Kirk said. "I guess I'm still processing it."

"I understand, Captain. Is there anything I can do?"

Spock said it with almost human-like concern.

"I'm fine, Spock," Kirk assured him. "Don't worry."

 

 

 

 

 

The last time Kirk saw Harrison in the holding cell, Harrison was standing in the middle of the room, his back straight, staring out like he could bore a hole through the protective glass.

This time around, Harrison sat on the bed, his head bowed, one hand clamped over his severed leg. He looked like a defeated man.

"I'm going to make a proposition to the Federation," Kirk started. Harrison lifted his head slightly, just enough to show he was listening. "That you, John Harrison, will return to stasis."

Harrison lightly gaped. "What...?"

"The Federation does not execute its prisoners. And clearly you are too much of a threat to keep in prison, the only other logical choice is... to let you sleep."

"...my family...?"

"They will sleep besides you."

Harrison gritted his teeth, the muscles in his neck tightened as he fought to control himself. Tears leaked out of his eyes. "You would show me mercy? After everything I've done, you would return me to them?"

Clearly Harrison had thought he was going to be separated from his crew for all eternity.

Kirk thought about his dream, how Harrison walked around a large empty ship, forever searching and knowing it was all in futile. If Kirk was pressed to admit it, that would be his personal hell too.

"Despite everything," Kirk said. "You are their captain. You should be with them."

Harrison buried his face in his hands.

He said something, but it was too quiet to hear. "Harrison, I didn't-"

"I apologize," he said, pulling his hands away. His cheeks were wet. "For calling you an idiot earlier. I can see now...  _why_  you are captain. I understand."

Kirk fought off the urge to grin. Of all things to apologize for,  _that_  was what he chose?

"You're forgiven."


End file.
